I sit here in the dark, by your side, as your soft snores punctuate the early morning. I can hear the noises of routines through the apartment walls, a soothing reminder that life continues outside of this bubble that we’re in.
This bed is new, for me. My first sleepless night, next to a freshly minted lover. The push and pull of consideration, of working to fulfill the needs and wants and desires of the other. The careful words, the deliberate honesty. This dance is fueled by kindness and desire in equal parts.
I lean, listening, as I assess my needs and the mood of the room out of habit. My custom is to be constantly on the lookout for jagged edges so that they can be smoothed almost imperceptibly, ensuring an even keel. This emotional management has been part of me for as long as I can remember, ebbing and flowing according to the dynamic of the time. An elephant in the room, noticed and praised only when crises are averted. When detected, it becomes an expectation, synonymous with who I am.
You noticed my hyper vigilance early on in the piece. Oh so gently, you advised that my services in this way were not required, and that you expected me to honor my truth and to allow you to do the same. You softly reminded me that feeling is the key to everything, and that living an emotionally regulated life was a false economy. That your response to my words is your problem, not mine. And I was speechless, barely managing to contain my racing thoughts. I have never felt so truly, vulnerably seen, as I was in that moment, by someone new.
Weeks have passed, now, and I sit here again in your space, pondering the conundrum of change. Unraveling a lifetime of impulses is tricky work, and I never imagined I’d be journeying through this soul minefield at all, let alone with support and guidance from others. An unexpected gift that is welcomed.
I practice gratitude in this moment, grateful for the opportunity to grow and reflect.
